Idaho semi-weekly world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1875-1908, 1887-06-17


you've said something you'll be
| sorry for I cried-"caliing me q
f! vixen. / may be n vixen, but
| if you were a gentleman But
| the Myerses always were tyrants,
| and Fm glad I've found you out III
| tine-so calm and so cool. and 20
| fixed in your own way. And III new
er, never, go and 1--we i'll your old pris-
on.house," / cried. growing angrler
and angrier, Heaven only knows why.
And YOU may just whistle for your
| dog, and 90 there yourself. and 60
alone. never want to see your face
again" And before he could grasp
me aud prevent me, had flashed IN
to the house, and had shut and bolt
ed the door.
He waited then; he waited, l shonld
think, an hour. And | sat inside.
burning with anger. and with an I'M
conscious sense of shame, very likely.
and n bitter disappointment, and
| a wild, unnamed fear. And at last he
rose slowly and looked at the win
dows, and turned away and called old
Roland, and went slowly down the lane.
And he never came back. | could
see him walking along, ever so slowly,
in the clear moonlight. with the dogs
| nose in his hand, till the road turned
into the wood that mounted the hill
And when he had gone just threw
myself on the floor, and ali but dis
solved in my mad tears. And didn't
know what the tears were for-wheth-
er for fear OF losing Mark. or for fear
| of losing my home, or for fear OF Civ
| 1. tn
that the end OF the world had as good
as come.
We were both orphans, we both had
these great properties. and we had
both better have been beggars.
That was June, and the iull moon.
diln' sleep any that night hard
~ know why; a presentiment OF evil
kept me waking, although | was SO
| tired. / remember that moon now,
hanging in the purple sky. with her
wide wings, like IL great bodlng ghost.
Every time | looked out, there she
was. By-and-by she began to brighten
me. and shut het ont, but lay awake
all he same, my mind in % wild whirl
The next evening, in the long after.
glow OF the sunset, tripped down
should meet him. as / had always
done, on his way to me; but the shape
had been used To see bounding down
| the path | did not see again. | went
close to the shadow OF the wood, but
only old Roland came and put his
nose in my hand, and waited with me
while | waited, aud went back with
me little way when went back. 1t
did not occur to me to think that
where Roland was his master was not
far distant. And l went down the
lane no more.
After that, then. one day crept by,
and another, and life continued in
| the old way, and all the business OF
the great farm thrived in the hands
OF Bryan. the directing overseer, and
all seemed TO be mere idleness. The
moving machines were humming all
day in the meadows, and the huge
| loads OF fragrant hay came laboring
into the barns, and thunderclouds
made panics, and the lightning fell, MS
| it always did on the wet low grounds,
and burned one or two hayslacks;
and then the pundelows went down
the river for the salt hay, and came
back, days afterward, with their dark
square sails set atop OF their square
lC ads OF thatch; and one by one all
the concerns of ripening and harvest
ing had their season. and sast, and
August was ever. Ana Mark had
never once been up to the lane again;
and September had gone, and the
! harvest-moon; and the hunter moon
he'd poured its silver floods OF light
ont OF n great lonely heaven; and still
| Mark had never come.
| | suppose Mrs. Wells, my next
neighhor, know all about it. And
! Mrs. Sawyer. on the other side, OF
! course knew all that Mrs. Wells did.
/ They were very good TO me, and they
and the girls were always running in
to see me, or sending Tor me to run in
and see them. l don't think | was
| trying to carry things off with high
| hand, and | know | wasn't hanging
! my head and crying over what was
not to be helped | simply made up
my mind to the inevitable. l was
never going to have Mark beside me
any more, and | must endare il, and
GET through life as we'll as | could
| Ind this farm on my hands, and all
the people who had their living from
it, ana | must do my duty. And per-
! haps in time fate would be kind r,
and give me fever or cough, and let
nle lie down ana die; and he would
come then and look on me, and re-
member how had loved him. and be
sorry. And thinking how sorry he
would be was n Joy Rugged to my
! heart, and the only Joy had.
But used to long so sometimes to
! see Mark S dear face again, to hear his
voice, just to lay my head on his
/ shoulder and cry my eyes out there
Sometimes it used to seem to me that
! couldn't live another minute if |
didn't run down that lane and up
! through the wood to the old house on
| the rock and find him. ana beg him to
| forgive me-lorgive. oh. not just that
burst OF temper, Int the whole rebel
! lion CT my soul--and come back o me;
and sometimes felt that must take
some sleeping potion that would keep
me benlmbed till the pain had pas sed,
or else must throw myself into the
river always running by, brimmed and
shining and indifferent.
And began to hate the river-the
river that had used to love so in the
sunshine. all blle and silver; that |
had loved so, dlmpling III it's soft c4ays
in rainy weather; where | had never
tired OF seeing the ice-boats dart along
when it lay white nm Ter its wintiy
! matt ba ri,ar that NOW in INV oriaf